A Very Bed Surprise
by kbeto
Summary: Derek suffers with his sister obstinate for being right, Scott learns too much information, Stiles is a boner expert, and Laura is right (like always). Things get /hard/ for Derek when he's confronted with a kink he didn't even know he had. There may or may not be an intended pun somewhere in there, or perhaps it's just a conspiracy. Either way, he's in for a surprise.


_Disclaimer: I would gladly own Teen Wolf and make everyone happy. Unfortunately, I can't._

_This is a rewrite of a story (Bed Surprise) I posted back in 2013. It was previously rated T, and had half the word count, so you can imagine some of things that changed. *wiggles eyebrows* Oh, and I hope to come back with the last instalment for the Sterek/Pokémon trilogy and a mermaid AU soon._

_I decided to try some Sterek with this prompt from imagineyourOTP (tumblr). It's super AU-ish and what you need to know is that Scott is Laura and Derek's brother (not the same mom) and nobody is a werewolf. Oh, and that Erica is Stiles' step-sister._

A Very Bed Surprise

"Care to share what's so interesting, or should I ask you two to leave?" Derek lowered his book to look at Laura and Erica having a rather loud conversation over some random magazine.

He tried to block them out for the most part, but after 20 minutes of giggling and a few _"hot damn" _and _"come to mama"_ thrown here and there, he decided it would be better to either join them or vocalize his discomfort. It seemed to work, as he promptly was met with two pairs of arched eyebrows that screamed _"how dare you"_.

"If we were disrupting your reading, all you had to do was say something, Der."

"Yeah, Derek. It's not like we would think you are interested in this," Erica held the object of their amusement with one hand, tapping her fingernail against a black and white photography of a young man in lingerie. Stockings, corset, garter belt... the whole thing.

His face probably gave out the initial shock —if the girls' guffaw was clue enough— and Derek could tell his ears reddened quite a bit. He cleared his throat in a vain attempt of regain his composure, before he spoke again in what he intended to be a nonchalant and _very_ conversational tone.

"I don't see what's so appealing in a guy wearing those," he shrugged, burying his face in the book again. "At least try not to drool so much, you two."

"A girl can dream, okay? It's not like I'm convincing Boyd of dressing like that for me," Erica sighed. Apparently her relationship wasn't ready for some _new things_ yet, and that made her frustrated to the point the magazine flew across the room, and landed on Derek's chest, making him jolt on his seat.

"I'm sure Der would change his mind if that was Stiles," Laura grinned at her brother. She had that shit-eating grin on her face, one that Derek grew used to see whenever she thought she was right about a particular subject.

"Stiles is _not_ wearing something like this," he frowned, placing the magazine on the coffee table with more force than necessary. The idea of Stiles dressing in a lacy bra didn't really arouse him, and if anything, put him off a bit— why would he want his boyfriend in lingerie, anyway?

"Whatever you say— Scott, can you please hurry up? You're buying clothes, not attending a wedding!"

"I have to practice my dressing skills!" Scott's voice could be heard from upstairs. A few seconds later, he appeared before his sister and her best friend, asking how he looked and earning himself their approval.

The news of his first date with Isaac prompted Laura to appoint herself as his personal stylist and enlist Erica —her best friend— as her assistant. Sure, Scott could just ask Allison for help, but he knew better than to question his sister interest in his relationship; things got a bit ugly when she found out Derek and Stiles were secretly dating, and in all honesty, he rather not go through the same experience.

"Make sure they won't make you buy a skirt!" Derek warned with a chuckle, waving at the trio on their way out. He clearly missed Laura's narrowed eyes, the most evident sign that one of her revenge plots started to gain shape in her mind, just before she got in her car.

"Call Stiles, Erica," Laura ordered, revving the engine. She adjusted the rear-view mirror, turning to Scott next, a sly smile on her lips. "Cooter, how do you feel about a bet?"

~#~

Later that night, Derek came back from a long workout and headed straight to the bathroom to get rid of all sweat dampening his hair and clothes. The house was mostly silent, since his dad got plans for a picnic with them the next morning. Scott and Laura should be long asleep, and Derek would also follow their example or he wouldn't be too energetic for the family gathering.

Finishing his meal, Derek headed to his bedroom with a glass of water in hand, towel thrown over his shoulders, and clad in nothing more than a pair of black boxers. He had barely closed the door, when he heard an unexpected voice speak from behind him.

"My dad should arrest your sister for kidnapping. I'm not even kidding when I say that I've been here the _whole_ evening!" the familiar male voice complained. "At least she was kind enough to feed me."

"Stiles, what are you—"

Derek swallowed hard. The vision of Stiles lying on his stomach with his legs up, and eating cupcakes over a magazine was too much to take in at once. There were bits of frosting on his fingers, which he licked seemingly unaware of how pornographic and appealing such scene would look to anyone witnessing it. He leisurely took each finger deep in his mouth, and sucked them clean with plump lips (from all the biting and licking he's done, Derek presumed).

"What are you doing here?" Derek tried again, tightening his grip around his glass.

A deep breath. The thing with Stiles had always been the boy's oral fixation. Rather difficult to focus on anything else when he kept playing with things on his lips, even more when one knew what said lips were capable of. Everything around Stiles ended up on his lips. Lollipops, pens, pencils, Derek's d— _okay_, maybe Derek shouldn't allow his mind take to take him _there._

"Do you like it? Rather comfy, I daresay," Stiles gestured to his body. "Not that I'm planning on getting some of these for my wardrobe, though."

_Yeah_, Derek should have known that his sister would make him pay in some way. He just couldn't imagine that she would take things _so_ seriously. His eyes, that had been too focused on Stiles' lewd tongue work, ignored —for the most part, since it wasn't something easy to dismiss— the loose lacy bra along with panties that made the underside of a perky butt ten times more alluring than it should be. To make things worse, Derek felt his blood rush south, becoming _painfully_ aware of his own (tight) underwear.

"Derek? Are you still there, buddy?"

"Yeah, I'm just... surprised." The spaced reply came out, Derek unaware of when Stiles got up and so close to him.

"Dude, that bulge in your boxers makes you many things but _'surprised'_." Stiles chewed on his thumb, eyes rapidly darkening with lust. "Are we— are we gonna make a good use of that or what?"

Damn Laura and her unnatural need to always be right. Damn Erica for bringing that kinky magazine into their house. Damn his own traitorous body for telling the world he's turned on by that. Damn Stiles' cute face. Damn _everything_, because if Stiles wanted it too, Derek would comply in a _heartbeat._

"Unless you don't want to make use of it, obviously. It's your choice. Though, I must say that's putting a good boner to waste, and boy, do I know a good boner when I see one! It's not that I like to brag, but I'm a big expert in boners—"

An index finger silenced Stiles' lips, a gasp escaping him when Derek nibbled on his neck and hoisted him up. One swift move, and Stiles had his back pressed against the wall, legs tight around Derek's waist, tasting each other as if they hadn't seen each other in years.

The kisses were filled hunger, and would inevitably get Stiles some burns from Derek's stubble scratching his skin. The spaces between their bodies was also minimal, as Derek seemed more interested in grinding their clothed groins together while pretty much devouring Stiles' mouth.

"Not to whine or anything, but all those talks about fucking me against a wall sounded better in theory," Stiles moaned.

As much as he loved being manhandled, steadying himself by locking his ankles around Derek's calves would only keep him off the floor for a few more minutes. Added to the fact that he found his arms pinned over his head, it only made clinging to Derek's body more challenging, and gravity certainly wasn't on their side.

Good thing Derek spent so much time lifting weight, and had no trouble hurling both of them to bed.

"Hmm, that's better!" Stiles smiled, hand roaming down to cup his boyfriend's ass.

Derek had long learned that Stiles' blabbering mouth actually served as a good parameter for his performance in bed. A talkative Stiles wasn't a good sign, meaning that stimulation didn't suffice to keep the boy's mind off whatever he had in mind. A silent Stiles, however, that one was Derek's favourite. It meant Derek pushing all the right buttons, and causing enough friction to shut that connection between mouth and brain that often put Stiles in trouble.

And that's why Derek wasted no time in manhandling and flipping Stiles in bed, shifting his attention to the constellation of moles dotting the pale skin beneath him. No matter how times he saw it, he still gaped at them, overtaken by an urge to suck on them— lips, tongue, and even teeth were welcome to trace the maps on Stiles' skin.

"Somebody's a bit eager today." Stiles reached a hand behind him, taking a fistful of Derek's damp hair, while pressing his ass onto the bulge behind him. "I can feel it. Quite literally, I may add."

Derek groaned in frustration, though he didn't stop his kissing. Instead, he took the opportunity to worship Stiles' biceps, dragging his teeth over the exposed skin. He physically needed more than just that, and despite the serious straining in his boxers, he decided to have some more foreplay fun before getting down to business.

"How do you take this fucking thing off?" Derek grunted, twisting the bra with one hand. Even with all his girlfriends, he always awaited for them to take the damned thing off.

Stiles chuckled. "Ease off the ass, stud."

Derek obliged, sitting back on his own heels. He watched as Stiles again pushed a panties-clad ass onto him, impressed with how easily the bra slid off Stiles' shoulder, whilst he tried to bite back a moan.

Once Stiles threw the piece away, Derek resumed the kissing, even more excited than before. His tongue dragged along Stiles' torso, and upon reaching the dimples at the bottom of Stiles' spine, Derek smirked at a contained _"Ah"_ heard. He took advantage of their positions, gently pushing Stiles' cheek onto the mattress, such that he had easy access to the ass in front of him.

"_Jesus, Derek! These are expensive!"_ He _thought_ he heard Stiles complain when he pulled the panties down with his teeth, but he wasn't too sure. He hoisted his boyfriend by the waist slightly, just enough to slide the garment off and throw it behind them.

"Derek, buddy, are you still there? I need— Christ on a bike!" Stiles sucked in air, taken by surprise. He didn't expect Derek head sliding between his thighs to swallow his length in one go, but hey, he wasn't one to complain, okay?

No doubts Derek was enjoying all the squirming Stiles did a bit too much. If Stiles concentrated hard enough, he could picture easily that bastard grinning against his groin. This eager-to-please side to Derek was both the best and the worst aspect to their sexual life— mainly because often Stiles wouldn't last much as long as he wanted to.

The words _"I hate you"_ were ready to spill from Stiles' lips, however, that seemed an impossible task with all the head-bobbing on Derek's part. Not only that, but also a playful finger fondled him, making stimulation too overwhelming for any coherent words.

"Not yet," Derek informed, stopping his movements as suddenly as he began.

Stiles groaned in frustration. "I hate you."

"Not too convincing," Derek snorted, rolling a condom down onto himself, and uncapping a bottle to properly prepare them both.

"I'll hate you _later_, then."

The shit-eating grin appeared, just like Stiles predicted. It didn't matter much this time, because he was more interested in having his prostate hit than his boyfriend (and a very hot one, thank you) teasing him. He bit the sheets beneath him, taking a fistful of fabric, and let Derek's thrusts do all the work.

Steady and slow, the buckling of Derek's hips felt almost like dancing. Stiles loved this side to him, because who could imagine Mr. Grumpy Face as such a tender lover? However, not all times asked for romantic love-making, and this would one of those— sometimes a power fuck would do the trick.

Stiles didn't even realize he let a _"harder" _escape him, till Derek pushed him flush against the mattress, taking hold of his hips and biting his shoulders. The thrusts became faster and more intense, and if Stiles was barred from stroking himself in his position, Derek made sure to give him enough to reach climax hand-free.

Derek caught Stiles' earlobe between his teeth. "This one is on me," he whispered into Stiles' ear, increasing his rhythm further.

It didn't take long before both slumped into a heap of limbs, spent from their orgasms, Derek even more exhausted than Stiles. Derek flopped onto his own back, welcoming Stiles into his arms for a sweet kiss. Now that they liberated all the pent-up tension inside them, the lust gave place to all the tenderness that an afterglow cuddle brought.

Stiles was sure that laying your head on Derek's hairy chest changed everybody. Sure, he wouldn't _let_ anybody test his hypothesis, but that's something he just _knew._ Hairy chests were —after _"boner quality"_— Stiles' best subject, after all. Good for him that he found a boyfriend complete with both, because Derek passed all tests with an A+. In fact, Stiles would probably do anything for Derek.

Well, _almost_ anything.

"I'm not helping you wash your sheets, big boy."

~#~

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, little brother," Laura told Scott with a smug grin, waving the twenty-dollar bill she got from him. Erica also had a bill in her hand, but seemed a lot more sympathetic to Scott losing their bet, resigning to just throwing the boy an apologetic shrug.

"What happened this time?" Derek strolled in with Stiles in tow, both still with their bed hair on.

Stiles stifled a yawn and waved at his sister and Laura, he too waiting for someone to tell them what they're were up to so early in the morning. It had to be really early because Stiles eyelids felt like lead, keeping him from finding his clothes, hence why he decided to wear some of Derek's old ones.

"My brother sexed my best friend up right next to my room, and I lost 40 bucks to my sister and her friend."

_Oh._ That wasn't even remotely close to what Derek had been expecting as an answer. On top of that, Scott had this incredulous look on his face that made it seem like Derek had thrown his dog into a blender, while playing a sex tape of their parents on the background. Needless to say, that was a _very_ disturbing thought.

The bet Laura proposed seemed simple enough to Scott: he would receive 80 bucks —one half from Erica and another half from his sister— if Derek didn't have a lingerie kinky, and pay the girls $40, otherwise. Well, let's say Scott knew for sure he had lost their bet.

"You should consider some acoustic insulation, Der," Laura laughed. "We're not telling the Sheriff, don't worry."

"Dude, we need to talk!" Stiles looped an arm around Scott's shoulder. Suddenly, he felt very much awake, and needed to undo the misunderstanding.

Only that there was no misunderstanding to clear up, and Stiles worried about how much Scott actually heard. If the puppy, frightened face was any indicative, then Stiles should assume poor Scott heard more than the other boy would like to.

Scott swerved out of Stiles' grip, backing away into the kitchen. "Keep them away! I know what used them for!" he shrieked, pointing to his friend's fingers.

"Come on, Scottie!"

"Go away!"

The two disappeared into the kitchen, Scott shouting a very clear _"I'm not listening to any of your sexual fantasies involving my brother" _among other similar protests. Either Stiles would succeed in doing effective damage control, or (further) traumatize Scott for the rest of their lives.

Derek turned his attention back to the girls again. "You two are the worst," he sighed. "He'll avoid me and Stiles for a month or so."

"He'll get over it as soon as he gets his hands on Isaac," Erica giggled, patting the spot on the couch between her and Laura. "Give me juicy details! I didn't turn my brother into _'shota'_ material for nothing, you know?"

And just like that, the girls gained a (reluctant) new ally to their cause. A _very_ important cause, mind you.

It didn't matter that Derek adamantly denied that Stiles had suggested them to _"try it again some other time"_, because, unbeknown to him, Stiles had other two lingerie sets waiting to be put to good use.

~Fin~

_A/N: Prompt was "Imagine person A of your OTP coming home from work/the store/etc. and finding person B lying on the bed seductively, wearing a lacy bra, silk stockings, and silk panties (regardless of their gender)"._


End file.
